


There's A Butterfly Amongst The Stars

by ariane221b



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: 513, Alternate Ending, Cuddling, Fluff, Happy Ending, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-28
Updated: 2012-12-28
Packaged: 2017-11-22 17:04:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,134
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/612161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ariane221b/pseuds/ariane221b
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternative ending for Merlin 5x13. Where Arthur lives, and everything is ok in the end. </p><p>For a second, Merlin thought about crying. They had come so close to Arthur dying, but now they were here, at the tower, and he was safe. Arthur would be healed. They would go home. And yes, he though, they had come so close to Arthur dying. Not Arthur alone, but both of them. A coin is nothing without it’s other half, after all.</p>
            </blockquote>





	There's A Butterfly Amongst The Stars

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted an ending that I didn't have to be drunk to cope with. I hope you enjoy reading as much as I enjoyed imagining.

They had made it. Just. Merlin watched as Arthur practically crawled up the steps into the tower, hands with bodies made invisible by darkness reaching down to haul him inside. Arthur looked back once to Merlin, before the door closed behind him, looking more scared than Merlin had seen him in any battle.  
For a second, Merlin thought about crying. They had come so close to Arthur dying, but now they were here, at the tower, and he was safe. Arthur would be healed. They would go home. And yes, he though, they had come so close to Arthur dying. Not Arthur alone, but both of them. A coin is nothing without it’s other half, after all.  
Merlin thought about crying, but instead, he slept. He hauled their little boat up from the water, and propped it, upside down against the wall of the tower to shelter himself from the rain, and crawled underneath. He fell asleep to the sounds of the the lake moving against the shore, the rain clattering against the wood over his head, and a raven calling to it’s mate, as it circled above him.  
When he woke, Arthur was next to him, and the sun was shining. The layers of armour and chain mail had been replaced with a clean shirt and bandages, and a collared dove was singing from the trees on the bank. Arthur smiled, eyes closed against the afternoon sun. “Let’s go home.” he said.  
Arthur was still weak; it took them almost two days to reach the citadel. They slept in a hollow between two standing stones, and Arthur spent the evening pestering Merlin to show him just one more image in the sparks from the fire. They fell asleep apart, and woke up with their sides pressed together. Neither of them mentioned it when they both spent much longer than could ever be considered necessary pretending to still be asleep the next morning.  
The good weather kept up through the next day, and they took their time as they moved through the forest, pausing occasionally to drink, or for Arthur to tackle Merlin and prove that he was not a broken old man, only to resurface, breathless and laughing, hands clutching at his side. Merlin fussed over him, and made a show of rolling his eyes every time Arthur stumbled, or tripped over a tree root. “Who’s the clumsy one now?”  
“Shut up, Merlin. Get back to me when you’ve had a chunk of magic sword forcibly removed from your ribcage.”  
“Hmm. And how was that?”  
“Can’t complain.”  
“Right.”

It was very strongly decided that any and all council business could wait a day or two. As the sun slipped from view, the sound of Camelot celebrating the end of the war, and the return of its King drifted through the castle. The sound seemed to latch itself onto the heels and skirts of all of Albion’s finest, as they made their way to and fro between congratulating both those who deserved it and those who didn’t.

Arthur had retired early to his chambers, claiming exhaustion, Merlin loitering in the kitchens to fetch a jug of water, before following. He was interrupted at the door by Guinevere, who stopped him with one hand on his shoulder. “It’s alright, you know. You make him happy. It’s alright.” Then she had slipped by him, and carried on her way. Merlin watched her go, and decided that women were strange, and much wiser than he would ever be.  
As he had almost every night for the last ten years, he helped Arthur undress. He changed the bandages on the almost-healed gash on his side, and helped him slide into bed. “You don’t still have to do this, you know.” Arthur had murmured, gazing up at Merlin with sleep heavy eyes.  
“I know.” Merlin had said. “But that doesn’t mean that I won’t.”  
He had meant to go then, folding Arthur’s cloak over the back of a chair, and moving towards the door.  
“Merlin,” Arthur had called, “Do you have to leave?”  
“Not if you don’t want me to.”  
“Do you want to?”  
“Not particularly.”  
“Well then.”

Merlin had rid himself of his boots, belt and jacket, and paused for a moment by the bed. Arthur rolled his eyes, and pulled back part of the blankets. “Come on then, Merlin.”  
Merlin had refrained from rolling his eyes (just), and done as he was told, slithering in between the sheets. He had blown out the candle that stood on the chest beside the bed, and rolled onto his side, so that he was facing Arthur in the dark.  
Arthur had reached out with one hand, and taken hold of Merlin’s wrist under the blankets. “Show me your magic.” He had whispered. And Merlin had. He had grinned in the darkness, knowing that Arthur couldn’t see it, and rolled onto his back. There had been a flash of gold, as Merlin closed one hand in mid air, and released his fist, as if throwing sand. A handful of miniature, silver stars scattered out across the canopy of the bed, releasing just enough light to illuminate Arthur’s face, as he had stared up in awe. “That’s amazing,” He had said. “You know, I probably would have called you an idiot a lot less if you had just told me sooner.”  
“No you wouldn’t,” Merlin had said. “You would have just had me hung instead.”  
“Maybe.” Said Arthur. And then, “I’m sorry.”  
“I know.”  
“I love you.”  
“I know,” Merlin had turned to look at him. “Although, in future, it would probably be nice if you could give me some warning before putting that out there.”  
“Git.” Arthur had said, and moved his arm from Merlin’s wrist to around his shoulders, so that he could pull the man against him. He had kissed the top of Merlin’s head, and closed his eye’s for a second. “Show me your favourite spell.”  
“Greedy.” Merlin had said, but his smile was a mile wide, as he pillowed his head on Arthur’s chest, and cupped his hands together. There had been the whisper, the flash of gold, and Merlin had opened his hands to release a forget-me-not blue butterfly, into the stars. “For the record, I love you too, you know.”  
“I had suspected as much.”  
“Gwen’s going to skin me alive, isn’t she?”  
“I don’t think so.”  
“Really?”  
“We’ve… talked. About this. She’s in much the same position I am. C’mere.” Arthur had tugged at Merlin’s shoulders until the man was leaning over him. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”  
“You’re going to give me a complex, you are.”  
The kiss had been sweeter than honey, and lighter than air. A forget-me-not blue butterfly danced around their heads. They slept, and it was all, just fine.

**Author's Note:**

> During writing this, I realized the main reason that I write is to pick up chicks. Sleep safe in the knowledge that somewhere, somehow, you are being hit on by a lesbian.


End file.
